Teeth Like God’s Shoeshine
You don’t get many birthday presents in orphanages. Once a month they’ll maybe have a cake with everyones name on it. The staff will all sing Happy Birthday. It sure as hell don’t make you feel special for being born, but hey, no one is gonna bitch about free cake.
At the East City home where I was at for three years, you would get a whole box of cereal on your birthday and a new toothbrush. Any kind of cereal you wanted. All year you’d think about it. The first year I didn’t know any better so I asked for Cookie Crisp. One of the older boys took me aside, “Jensen, what the fuck are you thinking!” he hissed. “These niche cereals come in tiny 10-12 oz boxes. You need to go for a major player, something like Frosted Flakes or Cap’n Crunch.” He was deadly serious. “I had a box of Frosted Flakes last year that was 20 ounces. I got 11 bowls out of the motherfucker,” he beamed. “You’ll be lucky to pull 5 bowls out of that tiny ass Cookie Crisp box.” And he was right I only got 5 bowls and the last one was half crumbly bits and dust. It was still pretty awesome though, it was like having cookies for breakfast and we didn’t ever get cookies.
Over the next year I studied my prey. I checked the Albertsons and the Piggly Wiggly. Frosted Flakes and Fruit Loops where the biggest, both came in 20 ounce boxes. Cap’n Crunch came in a 19.8 oz box. It all depended on ones preference. My birthday was in March so I talked about it and discussed it with the other kids. I was leaning towards Fruit Loops but I was strongly cautioned that it was only the winter speaking through me. I was being seduced by the bright colors and fake citrus. Frosted Flakes and Captain Crunch were far superior and held up better in the watery skim milk they gave us. I wouldn’t listen. I had to find out the hard way. Sure, I pulled almost eleven bowls out of that bright bitch but starting with the sixth bowl I was tired of it. It turned to multi-colored mush in minutes and the fake citrus left a mildly bitter aftertaste. Next year I would go Frosted Flakes or if I could toughen up the roof of my mouth I’d step up to the Cap’n. I didn’t really think about much more until the fall.
The day before Thanksgiving I casually mentioned I would choose the Cap’n that next spring. I was patently laughed at. I’d be a bleeding mess by day two, they laughed. I couldn’t handle it. I was soft. Again they were right, who was I kidding. The roof of my mouth was so tender it was almost translucent. I went off to be alone and tell sad heroic tales to myself about myself and how one day I’d be the hero and fall in love with a beautiful woman. That was the first time I saw the teeth. I felt something in the room. I turned around and saw them floating in midair like daggers. The teeth began to speak and my mouth began to bleed. They teeth told me there was something inside of me. They told me about love and of a fire. The teeth said that they were my mother and that anyone who said they loved me was a liar. “Do you love me?” I said. And the teeth just hung there gleaming like a display of wolf medals to large for my dreams. The teeth spoke to me all that winter and I bled and cried but I kept asking questions because I needed to know. By the time my birthday came around I’d almost forgot about the cereal. But when asked for my preference I confidently ordered the Cap’n and for the following eleven days I roared my delight through my gun metal mouth, the wolf mother heart singing to me of love and freedom. In fact she sings to me still and I devour the hearts of dear young children, who run from the cold and try to hide.